


When You See An Angel

by LetsEatPie



Category: B.A.P
Genre: And on AsianFanFics, Angst, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, I don't know what else to say, M/M, Romance, There's plenty of death, This is my first story that isn't smut, daehyun was an assassin, daejae - Freeform, like a lot, youngjae is a nobleman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8076559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetsEatPie/pseuds/LetsEatPie
Summary: Even if my soul departs into paradise; even if my soul falls into damnation, it will mean nothing if I lose you. For we are bound together by the Cherub's arrow and not even 'til death will we part. But what will intervene the romance between a sinner and an angel?





	1. I promise

**Author's Note:**

> I have decided to make the chapters longer. Chapters 1-3 are in the new Chapter 1, Chapters 4 and 5 are in the new Chapter 2 and Chapter 6-8 are in the new Chapter 3.  
> Also, if it takes a little longer for me to update this story, this is the reason why.

Say you met the man who murdered your father. Now, don't give this question much thought; answer it with the first thing that comes up in your head. Would you dare to fall in love with them? Would you turn away from your painful past and allow yourself to fall prey to their affection? Perhaps you're afraid that the words they speak are tainted with lies and deceit. Perhaps you're scared that the kisses they press onto your lips are laced with the deadliest poisons. A bouquet of pure white roses with thorns that can easily pierce through skin and serenades that are as beautiful as they are venomous to a loving heart; it's easy to succumb to the siren's song. Of course, it's perfectly understandable why you would want nothing to do with them. A killer will always be a killer, after all. Whether a day has passed or a century; it will never change the fact that blood was spilled by those same hands that embrace you. Trust is crucial in this game called love; would you dare to fall in love with them?

 

The city of Porles was abundant with people; children ran around the marketplace, tugging on their mother's skirts. Drunkards laughed and waved bottles in the air as they stumbled out of the taverns. Merchants advertised from behind their wooden stalls, hoping to lure in customers with their enticing goods. The sweet scent of fresh bread danced in the air and teased hungry stomachs. The place was very much alive--quite ironic, really. Even when the sun disappeared to God-knows-where and when raindrops fell from the Heavens above, the city of Porles refused to rest.

 

At first glance, one would assume that a city so lively would be filled with only law-abiding citizens. However, all was not well in Porles. Thieves prowled around the marketplace, ready to snatch purses from unsuspecting women and killers walked among the innocents, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Bribes kept the bitter truth hidden from the public eye to prevent damaging the city's already tarnished reputation. Porles was unanimously known around the country as 'The Killers' Rendezvous'. For reasons unknown, homicides were as common as feathers were on a bird and bloodless nights were as rare as the feathers of an angel. Conspiracists even believed that the headquarters of a legendary guild of assassins--The House Of Cards, was located somewhere in Porles. But of course, The House Of Cards was nothing more than folklore, fabricated to discourage anyone from venturing around the city at night. Still, regardless of whether The House Of Cards was real or not, there was no denying that the rate of homicides was alarming. Nevertheless, Porles was a place Youngjae enjoyed visiting. With its rich history and exquisite wines, breath-taking landscapes and ever-increasing number of brothels, it was obvious why Porles was so appealing to visitors. 

 

 Youngjae watched as droplets of rain trickled down the carriage windows. From behind the glass, he could see small puddles forming on the shiny cobblestone path. He could hear the familiar chattering of the people growing louder as they neared the heart of the city. Umbrellas blossomed upon a raindrop's touch, while others scurried off to find shelter. It was during that rainy afternoon when Youngjae received news that his mother was finally making her way back home after spending her birthday with relatives in another city. It had been over four weeks since she left and two weeks since her birthday. Stepping out of his carriage, he opened his own umbrella and was welcomed by the delectable scent of fresh bread. Youngjae paced around the marketplace stalls, searching for a fine late-birthday gift for her. Angel statuettes, elegant gowns, heavy chandelier earrings; those were nice, but not good enough. Eventually, he walked back to his carriage with a velvet pouch in his hands. He could feel the weight of the jewels and gold lying behind the soft fabric and sighed. Growing up in a rich family, he was taught to always be generous but he was no fool either. He knew how money worked and he knew that he had always had a tendency to spend more on others than for himself. Though, there was never a time when he regretted it. To Youngjae, the grateful smiles they gave him were worth much more than every gold piece he could ever own. He liked to keep people happy--that was all that ever mattered to him.

 

Turning around a corner, he noticed a young man, more or less the same age as him. He wore clothing that even peasants would be ashamed to wear. The shreds of cloth that dangled off of his limp body were stained with blood and didn't protect him at all from the city's filth. The man's thin limbs were blemished with fresh cuts and bruises. It was almost as if he was deliberately left there to die. Youngjae approached him and crouched down beside him, sheltering them both under his umbrella.

"Hello there. Would you like some help?"

The man said nothing. He looked up at Youngjae with lifeless eyes that practically screamed for help. Completely abandoning his umbrella and exposing himself to the rain, he bent forward and picked up the man. With one hand pressed against his back and the other under his knees, Youngjae carried the man back to his carriage. 

"Don't worry. You will live," Youngjae assured, though he wasn't so sure anymore. The man was as light and fragile as a child, if not lighter and his lungs were weak. He was hanging onto his life by the tips of his frail fingers but still, Youngjae refused to worry. 

"You will live." Youngjae repeated to himself. 

The wind blew and dragged Youngjae's discarded umbrella along with it. Blood and rainwater streamed into the drains as Porles claimed yet another victim. Passersby shot Youngjae strange looks and whispered among themselves. Youngjae furrowed his eyebrows at them. There was nothing absurd about helping those in need.

 

Amidst the shrieks of terror and crying children, thunder roared behind the ashen clouds and what was nothing more than gentle kisses of rain came pelting down mercilessly upon their heads. Death was near and yet, hope was closer.

"Junhong," Youngjae called as he placed the man onto the carriage seat.

Junhong was Youngjae's valet. He was quite new, being hired only a few weeks prior. He did his job well, despite the fact that he was rather clumsy and couldn't wield a sword to save his life. Though, with his tall stature, it was much easier for Youngjae to monitor his actions and making sure that the young man was doing his job and not flirting with any of the women.

"Junhong, fetch me some bread from that shop over there." Youngjae pointed towards a nearby bakery. The image of a loaf of bread was painted onto the wood of the wordless sign that stood above the entrance. A young woman could be seen entering the bakery. Youngjae passed a handful of gold coins to Junhong. 

"And be quick; you don't have time to converse with the baker's daughter." Youngjae yelled after the young man. Soon, Junhong returned to the carriage, holding a loaf of bread and handed it to Youngjae. 

"Thank you, Junhong." Youngjae gave a small nod. Junhong turned back, closing the carriage door. He ran his fingers through his dampened bangs and rubbed away the lipstick stain on his cheek.

"Here," Youngjae sat beside the man, offering him the bread and a flask of water. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of Youngjae's lips as a shaky hand reached out and accepted the food.

"Hey. What's your name?" Youngjae tipped his head to one side as the lengthy pause grew between them.

"My name," The man hesitated. It was almost as if he had forgotten his own name. He spoke with a lifeless voice, yet Youngjae could sense that beyond his helpless exterior, there was a strong will to live.

 

"Daehyun."

 

Daehyun looked down at the food in his hands.

_It's been so long._

A whole decade had passed since Daehyun last ate bread that was paid for. A whole decade had passed since the last time anyone spoke to him so kindly. A whole decade had passed without anyone asking for his name. 

_It's been too long._

 

"Well, Daehyun, I'm pleased to tell you that as long as you're under my care, I promise I won't let you die." Youngjae smiled with glee and Daehyun smiled back; another thing he hadn't done in a long time. Youngjae thought nothing of those words at the time; he was just giving Daehyun hope. Yet, little did he know, those words meant everything to Daehyun. Youngjae just volunteered to be entrusted with someone's life.

"I'm grateful, I truly am. But if I may ask, why are you doing all of this for my sake? I'm just a nobody." Daehyun looked down at his hands once more, guilt tugging at his heart.

_I don't deserve this. I'll just be a burden to you._

"We are all nobodies, are we not? Some of us are just more fortunate than others, but none of that will matter once we die. It's a depressing thought, I know." Youngjae placed a hand on Daehyun's shoulder.

"But Daehyun, when you see an angel, would you ever question its actions?"

Daehyun shook his head. "I doubt that an angel would ever do any evil deeds. So no, I wouldn't question its actions."

Youngjae smiled at Daehyun. "Then don't question mine, alright?"

Daehyun nodded at Youngjae. 

 

The delicate scent of petrichor welcomed them to Levert forest. Birds flew around the dampened air and sang a beautiful tune that even a whole orchestra couldn't replicate. From the lush treetops and down to the forest floor, every imperfection complimented its natural beauty. Even the muddy path beneath the carriage wheels seemed to fit right in. Daehyun stared at the scenery in awe. It truly was a pleasant experience. 

 

Light bled through the oak-wood branches until eventually the soft shadows were replaced by a warm light. The silhouette of a large mansion stood before them, beckoning them. The amber hue of the setting sun was the cue for most people to return home.

_Home._

Daehyun sighed. That one word carried with it many bittersweet memories. He remembered his old friends, his old neighborhood. He remembered his mother. Though those memories were made so long ago, he could never forget them. How could he? Those were the happiest moments of his miserable life.  
 

The carriage stopped at the manor's gates and yelling could be heard from the coachman.

"Oi, Jongup, wake up! Open the bloody gate!"

A barefooted man scampered out of a nearby cottage, untroubled by the insects entering through the open door. He opened the gates with haste, bowing as the carriage passed. 

"Welcome back, Youngjae, sir!" he shouted.

Youngjae nodded at him and Jongup closed the gates behind them.

 

The horses whinnied as the carriage came to a halt at the manor's entrance. Junhong held the door open for the passengers and Youngjae looked over at Daehyun.

"Can you walk?"

Daehyun nodded. "Yeah, I can."

He, though with great difficulty, managed to lift himself off of the seat until his exhausted legs could no longer support him. Though, instead of landing on the floor, he fell back into Youngjae's arms.

"Perhaps it isn't wise for you to walk independently just yet. Come on, I'll take you to our nurse." Youngjae placed Daehyun's arm around his shoulders and stepped out of the carriage together. The two stopped in front of the coachman.

"Thank you for driving, Yoongi." 

Yoongi smiled at Youngjae.

"It was my pleasure, sir. I wish the best for you and your friend."

Yoongi looked over to Daehyun.

"And don't you worry, kid. You're with Yoo Youngjae; you're in safe hands."

He bowed to them both before turning to leave.

 

What happened that afternoon? The rain finally stopped and the cicadas hummed along with the nightingale's song. Nature's cold breath gently swayed branches and its haunting lullaby brought the sun to sleep. The day wasn't over yet--the night was still young. Though, it wasn't during the day and nor was it at night; it was during that rainy afternoon when Daehyun found someone that he could call his friend.

 

For the moment, that is. 

 

Night--the dying hours of the day. Its haunting beauty was astounding; what lurked behind the gloomy shadows it cast? An angel, perhaps? Would an angel arise from such darkness? We may never know. But even so, without darkness, there wouldn't be light.

As they entered through the manor's wooden doors, Daehyun almost gasped. Beautiful paintings with intricate frames lined the walls and in the corners, bouquets of poinsettia stood tall in their brass vases. Red velvet curtains were draped across the windows and fell to the ground into an unruly pile, which still looked flawless, nevertheless. Above their heads was an elegant chandelier with the Midas touch; it cast a golden light upon everything in sight. 

"Welcome back, sir."

They were greeted by another man. He wore a suit equally as classy as Youngjae's and his dark hair was combed back. The combination of his intimidating eyes and friendly smile was unlike anything Daehyun had ever seen in his life. 

"Thank you, Yongguk. Do you mind helping me carry Daehyun here, to Aya?"

Yongguk bowed slightly. "Of course, sir." He said as he made his way to Daehyun's side.

Daehyun place his arm around Yongguk's shoulders and the two led him up the marble stairs. They pulled him up so much that Daehyun's feet barely touched the steps. The same beige walls reached up to the second floor and beyond; they continued up the stairs to the third floor and into a long hallway, adorned with the same potted Poinsettias. A line of doors stood before them and with gentle pushes, the two led him to a door on the far left. Yongguk left Daehyun's side and held the door open for them.

"Thank you, Yongguk. You may go now."

Yongguk bowed to Youngjae as he closed the door behind him. 

 

"Now, Youngjae, why have you brought a peasant boy here?" A stern, yet sweet voice asked. It reminded Daehyun of his mother.

"Do not call our guest a 'peasant'." Youngjae sighed.

"Oh, alright, bring him here."

Youngjae led Daehyun to a small bed in the corner of the room and the two sat side-by-side on its edge. A short, yet very plump woman approached them with little steps. Her grey curls fell around her face and a large scar across her wrinkled skin could be seen beneath her hair. 

"Now, does your 'guest' here, have a name?" Aya folded her arms and eyed the two.

"My name's Daehyun, ma'am."

"Heavens! He called me ma'am!" She exclaimed.

"Youngjae, you could learn a thing or two from this boy." Aya placed her hands on her hips. She was  _exactly_  like Daehyun's mother. She always compared him with other people.

Aya looked back to him. "Daehyun, was it? Well, Daehyun, before I can start putting bandages on you, you're going to need to take a bath."

 

Daehyun sighed as he dipped into the bath. He had long forgotten what hot water felt like against his skin. Breathing in the rose-scented steam was a new feeling to him. He looked up at his reflection on the fogged mirror. The cuts and bruises were still there. His bones still protruded out from behind his skin. Yes, it was still him, without a doubt. So why did Daehyun feel like he was living someone else's life?

 

He sat on the edge of the infirmary bed beside Youngjae once more as Aya prepared the bandages for him. She waddled over towards them, carrying a tray with pieces of cloth on it.

"Oh, child, you're going to need to take that bathrobe off, else it'll be morning before I finish wrapping you up."

Daehyun blushed as he stared down at his robe. Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, he pulled the robe together and refused to let go.

"But--" Daehyun was interrupted.

"No buts! I've been a nurse for almost forty years and I've done raised plenty of children in my life. So whatever it is you're embarrassed about, it's nothing compared to what I have seen."

There was a long pause before Youngjae cleared his throat and got off of the bed.

"I'll just wait outside, it that's fine with you." Youngjae held in a laugh as he made his way out of the infirmary, smiling like an idiot.

Daehyun sighed and nodded. He had no choice; just like his mother, Aya refused to take no for an answer.

 

The whole experience wasn't as bad as Daehyun had expected. Aya took no notice of his discomfort and soon enough, he too forgot about why he was so reluctant. He was just being immature. Aya told him about her children and her beloved grandchild, who, Daehyun learned, wasn't much older than he was. It wasn't long before he slipped his robe back on and found Youngjae still waiting outside the infirmary.

Daehyun looked down at his limbs wrapped in bandages as Youngjae led him to his own room.

“This is where you’ll be staying.” Youngjae opened the door and entered after Daehyun. Daehyun looked around at his surroundings. A large canopy bed was pushed against the wall and beside it was a polished wooden shelf filled with various books. The lone window overlooked the gates and Daehyun realized that Levert forest wasn’t far from Yoo manor at all.

“And these clothes are yours.” Youngjae walked to the wardrobe in the corner of the room and opened it, revealing a vast selection of clothing. Youngjae pulled out some clothes and threw them onto the bed in a pile.

“Wear those tomorrow morning so you don’t have to think about what to wear. It’s much quicker.”

Daehyun nodded. “Thank you.”

“I'll show you around the manor tomorrow, but for now, it is best if you just rest." Before the door closed behind him, he mumbled something.

"Sleep well, Daehyun."

 

And with that, the door was closed and Daehyun was left alone in the grandiose bed-chamber. Despite how tired he was, the moment his head hit the soft pillow, his eyes refused to close. With his head ridden with thoughts, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve anything that happened for the past few hours. Why was the world being so nice to him? After everything he did? It wasn’t right.

His eyelids grew heavier than stone and the allure of sleep was greater than all the riches in the world. Darkness filled his eyes and his senses became oblivious to the outside world. Had an angel flown past that night, he never would’ve noticed it.


	2. The past never forgets

The cicadas were silenced and the nightingales were mute; the sun had awakened. With the cockerel's distant call, a new day was born. Blood was spilled once more during the night--nothing too unusual for Porles. To Daehyun, however, it was a very eventful night. For in his eyes, sleepless nights were as plentiful as feathers on a bird and undisturbed rest was as rare as the feathers of an angel. Daehyun had to wonder; was it because Youngjae had told him to sleep well? Was he just blindly following his command? No matter; Daehyun wasn't complaining at all. Why would he? He hadn't slept that well in all the years of his life.

 

A blinding light seeped through Daehyun's eyelids and tore through the darkness. The dewy air felt cold against his skin and he shivered beneath the blankets. As his lips parted to release a yawn, his breath took the form of mist right before him. Through dormant eyes, Daehyun looked around the room until his gaze fell upon the pile of clothing Youngjae had set aside for him. Leaving behind the comfort of the bed, he stood up to get ready for the day. His feet met with the hardwood floor, sending chills up his spine. He picked up the article of clothing at the top of the pile--a blazer. He went to the mirror and held the blazer up to his torso. Daehyun's eyes widened as he marveled at his own reflection, before realizing that he was supposed to put the blazer on last.

 

With his tongue craving the warm sweetness of tea, Youngjae walked past the hallway's doors. Past the dimmed lighting and the potted Poinsettias; past the library's doors and the portraits of deceased family members. 

"Good morning, father." Youngjae whispered to himself as he walked by Yoo Jinsoo's portrait.

_How long had it been since he died?_

_Oh._

_10 years._

It was a whole decade ago when grief struck the Yoo family; it was a whole decade ago when death claimed--no,  _stole_  Youngjae's father. Though, Jinsoo was a very forgiving man; he would've told Youngjae to forgive his killer, whoever it was--the culprit was never identified.

He slowed his steps as he made his way to Daehyun's bed chamber.

_He should be awake by now._

Arriving outside the room, he twisted the brass doorknob and slowly pushed the door open. 

"Daehyun, it's time to wake--"

As though his breath had been stolen from him, Youngjae stood in silence. He stared at Daehyun in utter amazement. Daehyun looked back to Youngjae.

"Good morning, Youngjae." He greeted with a sweet smile. 

Yes, Youngjae realized that the clothes he had given Daehyun were a little large on him but he looked breath-taking, nevertheless. Barely a day had passed since he first saw Daehyun in Porles and already, he seemed much healthier and more alive. He had literally changed overnight.

"Good morning to you too, Daehyun." He replied as he entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He watched as Daehyun threw a tie around his neck and pulled at the ends in different directions.

"Do you know how to tie a tie?"

Daehyun looked at Youngjae from the mirror and shook his head. 

“Here, I’ll do it for you.” Youngjae stood up in front of Daehyun. As he took the two ends of the tie in his hands, Youngjae hummed to himself.

"Did you sleep well?" Youngjae asked as he helped Daehyun put on the blazer. Daehyun nodded and Youngjae smiled back as he fixed Daehyun's collar.

"That's good."

 

The floral scent of tea drifted from the kitchen as they sat around the dining table. Various jams, breads and slices of meat were laid out in front of them. With the vacant seats, Daehyun wondered why it was only he and Youngjae that were seated at the table.

"Because," Youngjae began

"They all have to eat in the servants' hall."

Daehyun tipped his head to one side. "And if they don't?"

Youngjae lowered his teacup before looking up to reply.

"Mother will get mad."

 

Pitter-patter went their feet. Yoo manor was a lot larger than Daehyun had expected. By midday, Daehyun still had many rooms to see. Afraid that he would get lost within the manor's many rooms, he never let Youngjae out of his sight. The silence between them was neither awkward nor relaxed and all that could be heard were their footsteps echoing against the walls. Youngjae was leading Daehyun to the library--the place where he spent most of his time. As they turned around the corner, Youngjae noticed the same portraits he had passed earlier that morning.

"These," Youngjae began as his hand motioned towards the paintings. 

"Are some of our deceased family members." Youngjae walked ahead and stopped in front of the portrait at the very end.

"That's my father." He sighed.

Daehyun stood in shock as he stared at the portrait of Youngjae's father. He seemed so familiar, like Daehyun had seen him before. There must have been a reason behind his uneasy feeling. He knew he'd seen that man before. But how?

"His killer was never found."

It was at that moment he remembered. He knew the reason behind his unease. He remembered everything. He knew why that portrait of Youngjae's father seemed so familiar. What was his name? Jinsoo, was it? Yes, Yoo Jinsoo was his name. The disappointment in Youngjae's voice when he said that the killer was never found hurt Daehyun more than all of the times he was made to bleed. Guilt flowed throughout his veins for at that moment, he knew that it was all his fault.

It was  _he_  who killed Youngjae's beloved father.

On that eventful day, ten years ago, Yoo Jinsoo was murdered--by Daehyun. He remembered exactly how it felt; when his blade tore through skin and dug deep into flesh. He could remember the helpless screams and the latter's blood drying on his hands. It was sinful. Daehyun regretted every moment of it. 

How sick and twisted is the past, with its arrows readily aimed at you. See how it is without mercy, how even uttering a single name or seeing one's face from beyond the grave can easily haunt someone. The past never forgets. Mistakes--no matter how much they are regretted or repented; they will be punished, for the past never forgets.

Neither jagged blades nor burning flames can compare with the torturous memories suffocating you with guilt. Those demons that live within you will tear apart your sanity; they'll use your tongue for their own words. Even if you beg for mercy, those memories will never leave you. You can't escape your own thoughts.  
   
Jung Daehyun was born into a poor family. His father was a fisherman and he was often away from home. Daehyun rarely ever saw him. His mother stayed home and looked after him. Sometimes, she would bring Daehyun with her to a nearby forest, where he would help her collect firewood for selling. They lived in peace like that until soon after Daehyun's ninth birthday.  
   
That was when they learned that his father had died out at sea. The sea was a cruel mistress, especially to the remainder of the Jung family. His death brought along great grief and misfortune to them. Daehyun's mother, Jung Dina, was unable to provide the money they needed to stay alive.  
   
At the young age of eleven, Daehyun returned home one afternoon after gathering firewood and found a man harassing his mother in their own house. The memory was scarred deep into his mind; he could never forget it.  
   
The man was pinning his mother against the wall. Daehyun was filled with rage--nobody had the right to treat his mother like that.  
"Listen to me, woman." The man yelled into her ear.  
"You will become _my_  concubine and I will end _all_ of your financial problems." He demanded.  
Dina turned to look at Daehyun. Her eyes were ridden with fear. He couldn't bear to see her like that.   
"My son," She reached her hand out to him. Her whole arm shook as it lay suspended in the air. Should he have taken her hand in his? He couldn't--he stood there, paralyzed by fear. Daehyun couldn't even blink, for he was afraid that by the time he opened his eyes, his mother would be gone. No, Daehyun could do nothing but let his tears stream down his cheeks.  
"Oh, you mean _that_ little bugger?" The man looked at Daehyun with the grin of a shark.  
"You're asking _him_ to help you?" He mocked. The man took a bottle and threw it at Daehyun, hitting his head. He fell to the ground helplessly.  
"How pitiful!" The man laughed.

Daehyun could feel his skin stinging from the shards of glass that have pierced him. Seeing the man ripping apart his mother's dress, despite her distressed cries--it angered Daehyun. His tears were mixed with his own blood as he looked down at the ground. He was surrounded by glass. Taking care not to let the man see him, he reached down and picked up a larger piece. Testing its sharpness, he squeezed the glass shard in his hand until he bled.  
_Yes, this will do._     
Daehyun stood up with trembling knees and crept behind the man. He took a few deep breaths as he felt his own heart pounding in his ears. Wielding his makeshift dagger, he jumped onto the man's back and clawed his way up to his neck.  
   
He could see the shock in his mother's eyes as the man collapsed in front of her. He felt nauseous at the sight of his blood-stained hands. Daehyun himself was shocked at his actions, for it was at that moment, in his eleventh year of life, when his once pure hands were forced into murder.  
   
Seeking refuge from the trauma, Daehyun turned to the hands of sleep to forget everything that happened. What was once his sanctuary ultimately became his definition of Hell; his eyes were tormented by the grotesque images that feasted on his fear. From that day forward, those images haunted his thoughts and every time he lay down his head, nightmares gradually tore apart his innocence. When the child awakened from his restless slumber, he was greeted by an envelope next to his pillow. Inside it was an invitation that lead him to what was meant to be the rest of his life.  
   
At that time, Daehyun knew nothing about The House Of Cards. Though she was reluctant at first, Daehyun managed to convince his mother to accompany him to the rendezvous. For three days and nights, they walked from their home in the city of Karivia, hoping that their feet would lead them to Porles.  
   
Months later, Daehyun became a notorious assassin, not only within The House Of Cards, but to the whole country. Publicly known by the sobriquet 'The Black Butterfly', he tailed his targets from the rooftops and swooping down to attack; his black cloak resembled the wings of a butterfly. He wielded two silver daggers that were as sharp as they were deadly in his hands. Of course, no one was able to catch him--his nimble feet allowed for an easy escape. His black mask revealed nothing more than his eyes; Daehyun wanted to keep it that way. After all, who would suspect that a twelve year old boy was a merciless assassin?  
   
His final victim was probably the one Daehyun regretted the most. He was offered plenty of gold to assassinate the duke of Porles--Yoo Jinsoo. Without hesitation, Daehyun accepted the offer.  
Beyond the outskirts of town, Daehyun hid himself behind one of the many oak trees and awaited the duke and duchess' carriage. As the carriage passed by, Daehyun threw his daggers, piercing both of the horses in the head and disallowed his target's escape. Revealing himself, Daehyun stepped out of hiding and retrieved his two daggers from the horses' skulls. The sound of shattering glass was deafening to Daehyun's ears as he jumped in through the window.

  
Daehyun's merciless blades left dozens of cuts across the man's torso. The eyes of the soon-to-be-widowed duchess were stricken with distress as she watched her husband coughing up blood. Her misery could be heard as she let out her painful cries. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she stared at Daehyun with desperation.                                                                                                                                  
"Please spare me, I beg of you. I-I have a son. I promised him that I would be back home before nightfall." She cried.                                                                                                                                                     
"God help me, I don't want him to become an orphan."   
   
Daehyun downcasted his eyes as he let out an inaudible sigh from behind his mask. He knew how painful it was to lose someone. Guilt tugged at his heart as he thought of all the people he had killed. How many families did he tear apart? How many women became widows because of him? How many children were orphaned by his hands? Without blinking even once, Daehyun refrained from killing the woman and retreated to Porles.  
   
Upon his arrival to his and his mother’s home, Daehyun found a letter on the doormat. The paper was covered in spots of water—it was obvious that tears were shed as that letter was written.  
   
_Daehyun,_  
  
_I came to Porles with you because I thought that with this new environment, I may become a better mother to my son. I agreed to come to Porles with you because I thought that finally, we could live in peace. Daehyun, I love you, but I can no longer bear this. I came to Porles to live with my son. But with what you have become, I feel as if I am living not with my son, but rather, a monster. All I wanted was a peaceful life for both of us. Was that too much to ask?_  
  
_Please, Daehyun, don't forget about me but don’t try to find me either. Our memories are too precious; don't forget them. Hold them close to your heart. Remember that I will always be your mother. I will always love you._  
  
_You are still a child—you have plenty of time ahead of you. You will find someone who will look past your flaws. You will find someone who will forgive you. I’m just sorry that I couldn’t be that someone. But when you do find them, Daehyun, never let them go. They are your angel._  
  
_And when you see an angel, you must protect it with all of your strength. Place this person above all else, including your own life._  
  
_Because whoever that angel is, they’ll do the same for you._  
  
_Goodbye, Daehyun._  
  
_-Jung Dina._  
 

Devastation hit Daehyun as his own tears fell onto the page. It was then when he decided that he needed to be punished. For all the suffering he caused, he too needed to suffer.  
   
That night, he set fire to their house, along with all of his belongings. For 10 years, he never again set foot in The House Of Cards. For 10 years, he survived only on food that he could find on the streets of Porles. He was alone. And just as death was about to claim him, he was saved by a miracle.   
   
An _angel_.


	3. Can you love a killer?

It was a new day; the sun shined brighter than ever and the air was warm—the perfect time to go outside. It was beautiful. A gentle breeze combed through Youngjae's hair as he gazed out of the open window. The branches of Levert forest waved in the wind as if they were bidding Youngjae a safe trip. The tranquil silence of the area was a refreshing feeling. Youngjae sighed as he watched the birds flying high above the branches.

_How nice would it be to have so much freedom? To be able to touch the sky like that? I wonder if birds know how special their ability to fly is._

A thought crossed his mind as he diverted his attention back to the seat opposite him, where Daehyun sat.

"Daehyun, what happened yesterday?" Youngjae recalled the memory. It was as if a ghost had appeared right before Daehyun’s eyes. As much as Youngjae wanted to know the reason behind Daehyun’s strange behavior, he made sure that he didn’t sound too forceful. Scaring away Daehyun was the last thing he wanted.

“I-it reminded me of when I lost  _my_ parents.”

“I see.” Youngjae’s heart grew heavier than stone and he looked down. He shouldn’t have asked. The boy deserved closure—they both did. The fact that he was taking Daehyun to Porles didn’t help at all. Surely, he should have known that the mere thought of that wretched place would only bring back unpleasant memories.

He sighed at his own inconsideration.

_No. Why am I thinking like this? I’m not just taking him to Porles without reason._

Youngjae donned a smile so bright and unexpected that it almost scared Daehyun.

“Have you ever tried cheesecake?”

Daehyun shook his head.

_Cheesecake? I’ve never heard of that before. Why would anyone put cheese in a cake? That doesn’t sound appetizing at all._

“You’ll love it. It’s delicious.” Youngjae chuckled. He sounded so sure of himself that Daehyun started doubting his previous thought.

“If you say so.”

 

Stepping out of the carriage and onto the cobblestone path, Youngjae drew in a deep breath. It was almost as if nothing had changed at all since he took Daehyun under his care; the same scents, same sounds, same faces. And out of all those faces,  _one_  of them was a lot less miserable.

“Come on, Daehyun.” Youngjae approached Daehyun and placed his arm around his shoulder. At a steady pace, he led them both to the heart of the city.

Before he met Youngjae, Daehyun rarely ever ventured into the center of Porles. And whenever he did, the richer townsfolk would look at him as if he was some sort of vermin and wasted no time in shooing him back to the slums.

 _That’s where rats like you belong_ , they would say.

And they weren’t wrong.

To all the passersby, the two simply looked like close friends. They wore similar clothing, polished shoes, well-groomed hair and both faces were free of displeasure—Daehyun didn’t seem out of place at all. No one would’ve guessed that a noble like Youngjae was, in fact, walking alongside a  _rat._

Daehyun had never seen the center of Porles within such proximity. The whole area was set out like a dartboard. At the middle—the bull’s eye; was a grandiose fountain. With its marble dolphins gushing out water, the gentle hums of its ripples were soothing to the ear. Circling the fountain was a flagstone path. Its width offered plenty of space for everyone to move around easily. Various shops lined the path, most of which were filled with customers. The place was a lot more sophisticated than the disheveled marketplace.

“Here we are.” Youngjae announced as he held the door open for Daehyun. Daehyun stepped inside with his mouth agape in awe. Wooden shelves lined the walls with cheese and wine proudly displayed on them. The tangy scent of exotic spices and finely-aged cheese were foreign to him. Slices of cured meats were bound by twine to a rack above their heads and could easily make full stomachs growl.

“This is Vindeciel—the best delicatessen in town.”

“Youngjae? Is that you?” A voice called out from behind the counter. A young woman peeked through the array of food blocking her view and jumped up when she saw the figure standing by the door.

“Dalas. It’s been a while.” Youngjae replied as she gave him a tight hug.

“It’s been  _too_  long.” Dalas broke off the hug and straightened out her dress.

“So what brings you here, Jae?”

 _‘Jae’? She called him ‘Jae’? Just how close are these two?_ Daehyun’s cheeks reddened at his thoughts.  _Wait, why is this bothering me so much?_

“My friend, here, has never tried cheesecake.” Youngjae motioned to Daehyun.

“Hello, miss. My name is Jung Daehyun.” Daehyun said with a bow. A  _bow._

“Oh. Well, he sure is polite.” She stated as she stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

 

In front of Daehyun was a slice of cheesecake. It looked very plain and tasteless and he began to question Youngjae’s definition of ‘delicious’. People often eat with their eyes before their mouths and to Daehyun, it sure as Hell didn’t look delicious. But he decided to try it anyway. He dug his spoon into the cheesecake and brought the small chunk to his lips as Youngjae and Dalas watched, eagerly awaiting his reaction.

To his surprise, it tasted divine. It was rich, creamy and the biscuit base was sweeter than honey. It  _was_  delicious--and easily addictive. After he finished his own slice, he couldn't resist asking for some of Youngjae's. 

"Well? Do you like it?" The two asked Daehyun in unison.

Daehyun gulped down another bite of cheesecake before replying. "Are you kidding? This is delicious!"

Dalas smiled at him. "I'm glad. Vindeciel is well-known for its wine but the cheesecakes remain a hidden gem."

 

Daehyun and Youngjae stayed at the delicatessen until midday. Because it was lunch time for most people, Youngjae knew that Dalas would be busy soon. Besides, he had other plans too. He and Daehyun were going to aid Junhong with his swordsmanship. Excusing themselves, Youngjae exited Vindeciel--but not without one last hug from Dalas.

 _There it is again_. What was Daehyun feeling? It seemed so foreign to him--whatever it was; it was making his heart pound. 

"Take care when going back to the manor. Rumor has it that there's an assassin lurking in Levert forest."

 

The carriage ride was no different from before. The still silence of their surroundings--it was  _loud._ Muted birds flew above them; even the carriage's wheels rolling against the dirt path remained quiet. It wasn't awkward, but Daehyun had the urge to break the complete lack of sound.

"Youngjae, are you and Dalas perhaps--" Daehyun paused to let his mind gather the words he needed.

"Are you two in a relationship?"

Youngjae's cheeks burned bright red upon hearing Daehyun's question.

_What? He hasn't fallen for Dalas, has he? No, he can't have. But then that can only mean--no. I'm sure it doesn't mean anything. He's just curious._

"No, we're not. Miss Dalas Otatop is actually my cousin." Youngjae chuckled. 

Interrupting the awkward pause that followed, Youngjae cleared his throat and turned to Junhong. The young man was sitting beside Daehyun and without a word, he ran his fingers along the blade of his new sword.

"Be careful with that sword, Junhong. If you get  _too_  good at it, you might get invited into The House Of Cards." Youngjae joked.

Daehyun gave them a convincing smile as he desperately tried to push his past back into its grave, where it belonged. "Let's just hope that you'll never  _need_  to use it."

 

The three slipped back into silence as the same oak trees they saw that morning came into view. Everything was still. There was no wind, no breeze--no movement at all apart from the carriage they were in. It was cold. The statuesque trees prevented any of the sun's warmth from seeping through. The seemingly lifeless forest, a carriage being pulled by two white horses and the metallic shine of a blade--Daehyun was getting a strong sense of Déjà vu.

 

From the corner of Daehyun's eye, a gray horse and its rider came into view. What was a peaceful sight of Levert forest merely moments ago, was suddenly ridden with a sense of danger. The cloaked rider dismounted the horse and threw himself into the carriage. With the shards of glass falling on them like hail and the cold air seeping into their skin, they knew the safety of their carriage was no more. Though he was just as afraid as a mouse would be in the face of a cat, Junhong wielded his sword. Though it was to no avail--before he could attack, a triangular blade from beneath the perpetrator's cloak pierced through his hand. With the stinging pain, he stumbled back and dropped his sword. Inhaling sharply, Junhong bit down hard on his lip to try to suppress the pain as he clutched his trembling hand. He watched as his blood trickled down his arm and fell to the floor in drops; its metallic odor was overwhelming.

_Youngjae._

Daehyun eyed the forgotten sword and mustered up the courage to pick it up. Swords weren't too different from daggers, were they? Surely, Daehyun could use a sword just as well as a dagger.

_I need to protect Youngjae._

A pale arm extended out from beneath the cloak's shadows with a peculiar weapon in-hand. Like a boomerang, a bladed fan of blackened silk flew across the carriage--and it was aimed straight for Youngjae's throat. Daehyun tightened his grip on the hilt as he swung at the airborne fan. Before Youngjae could even react, the sword's blade obstructed the fan's path and it fell onto the seat beside him. Everything was a blur--with his thoughts hazy from agitation, Daehyun slashed the sword at the perpetrator. The assassin collapsed and the hood that concealed their face slipped off. The assassin was a young woman. She gasped for air as her arms wrapped around her wounded torso in pain. She looked up at Daehyun in defeat.

"Who  _are_  you?" She coughed up blood and her voice became weaker than a fallen leaf. 

"Those eyes...Daryn?" With those words, her voice faded away and her comatose body was without movement.

With their hearts pounding louder than a stampede and lungs showing no signs of slowing, the three stared at the woman. Her seemingly lifeless body was submerged in a pool of her own blood. Regardless, they still needed to know if she was truly dead or not. Youngjae approached her and gently pressed two of his fingers below her jaw. Everyone was silent and nothing but the galloping of the horses could be heard as they awaited the verdict.

Youngjae sighed. "She's still alive. We need to take her to Aya." 

"But what if she tries to kill you again?"

Youngjae shook his head. "With an injury like that, she won't have the strength. And I  _am_  capable of self-defense. Besides," He looked out of the window and stared up at the sky.

"She can lead us to The House Of Cards."

Though he was reluctant, Daehyun nodded in agreement. What else was he supposed to do? He was only twelve when he left The House Of Cards, anyway. Surely, nobody would recognize him. 

_Wait...did she call me Daryn?_

_Daryn_. It had been so long since he heard that name.

Back when Daehyun was still an assassin, he was known by three different names. Most people around the country knew him as the infamous Black Butterfly. All of his friends called him Daryn. Nobody knew Daehyun's real name except for his mother. He wanted to keep those two different sides of him separate. Daehyun was the poor peasant boy who could never hurt even a fly; Daryn was the bloodthirsty demon that kept Daehyun alive.

 

The carriage stopped outside the manor's gates. With Youngjae and Daehyun carrying the unconscious woman, the four got off the carriage and ran to the gates.

"Yoongi, go back to Porles and bring Seokjin here,  _now_!" Youngjae yelled over his shoulder. Yoongi simply nodded and returned to Porles as fast as the horses could take him. 

"Jongup! Jongup hyung! Open the gates!" Junhong yelled so loud, his throat began to ache.

Jongup ran out of his little cottage and wasted no time in opening the gates.

"Junhong? What the Hell happened?" Jongup asked with growing panic in his voice.

"We were attacked."

Jongup turned to Youngjae and saw him and Daehyun carrying the injured woman. In her comatose state, she looked so harmless. 

"Junhong, did that woman do this to you?" Jongup clenched his fists tightly. Tighter,  _tighter_ , until his knuckles turned white. 

Junhong nodded and Jongup furrowed his eyebrows. He clenched his fists tighter,  _tighter_ , until his nails broke through skin.

"Youngjae,  _sir_ , why are you bringing a killer to your home? Only a fool would do such a thing and surely, you're no  _fool_."

Daehyun gave a slight grimace as he heard those words. The twinges of guilt he felt was sickening. 

Youngjae didn't answer and instead, he commanded Jongup to open the gates when Yoongi and Seokjin arrived.

 

The manor's wooden doors stood tall, beckoning them. They ran towards the entrance as if Heaven was behind those closed doors. With his usual smile, they were welcomed in by Yongguk. 

"Welcome ba--" Yongguk’s eyes widened in shock and his tongue-tied smile decayed into a grim frown. The grotesque sight of blood and the woman's open wounds sent chills up his spine.

"Yongguk, go before us and tell Aya that we're bringing her two injured people."

Without question, Yongguk ran off to the infirmary and sprinted up the stairs with bounds and leaps. The two proceeded to carry the woman up the stairs with Junhong following closely behind them. Ignoring the drops of blood they had left behind on the white marble, they climbed the stairs at a steady pace. Making their way through the maze-like hallway and knocking over one of the decorative Poinsettias, they finally arrived at the infirmary. As they entered the room, Aya ran to them with a bundle of white cloth in her hands. 

"Bring them here!" She yelped with a frantic voice before taking notice of the blade embedded in Junhong's hand. 

"Oh, you poor child! Your hand! Youngjae, please tell me you sent someone to fetch Seokjin."

Youngjae nodded at her as he and Daehyun gently set the woman down on the bed. Aya sighed in relief as she turned back to Junhong.

"Junhong, dear, I need to do as much as I can to keep that young lady alive. You're strong--please, just endure it for now. Can you do that for me?" Her tone was awash with pity as she placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Okay." Junhong grunted as he sat down on another bed. Raising his hand up to his eyes, he observed the blade. An 'A' and a heart were engraved into the blade. 

_Ace of hearts? So she really is a member of The House Of Cards._

 

Not too long after, Seokjin arrived and hurriedly began unpacking his equipment.

"Bless the Lord!" Exclaimed Aya as she ran across the room towards Junhong.

"Please come and help that woman, Jin. I can do nothing more for her."

Sitting beside Junhong on the bed, she took his hand in hers and inspected the wound. She looked at him with pained eyes before saying in a gentle voice,

"Would you like something to bite down on? It'll make it hurt less."

Junhong shook his head and Aya shrugged her shoulders, as if to say 'suit yourself'. 

It was as if all of the air was knocked out of his lungs when he felt a sharp pain in his hand. The blood in the wound had dried and the skin surrounding it was stuck to the blade. And just as he felt that it couldn't get any worse, Aya began pulling it back and forth, trying to dislodge it. Though she was trying to be as gentle as she could, Junhong still writhed in pain with every move she made. His distressed wails and helpless cries--along with an occasional expletive filled the room; perhaps even the whole manor.

'Watch your language, young man!" Aya scolded as she dropped the blade onto the metal tray beside her. 

Taking notice of the blade, Junhong looked straight down at his hand and sighed in relief. Sure, the wound had started to bleed again and the sight alone made him feel nauseous but at least there wasn't a piece of metal inside his hand. 

Junhong leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. The unpleasant feelings faded as relaxation seeped in. Breathing in, breathing out, he slipped into the calm darkness. 

_When all of this is over, I'm going to give Jongup-hyung a big hug._

Junhong yawned as he slowly felt himself falling prey to the sweet allure of sleep. The metallic odor of blood was replaced by another strong scent. It smelled like--

_Alcohol?_

Quicker than the fluttering wings of a bird, Aya pressed a cloth soaked in alcohol onto Junhong's hand. Fighting against his resistance, Aya called for Daehyun to help her keep Junhong still. Though she knew she was only trying to help him, she couldn't help but feel sorry for making him go through such pain.

_It's for the best._

His distressed cries were much louder than before and tears began rolling down his cheeks. 

Eventually, the burning sensation in his hand had gone and Aya wrapped Junhong's hand in what felt like the softest bandages he'd ever felt. 

Sitting down beside Junhong, Daehyun placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Good man, you managed to endure it--you're stronger than most people."

Comforting smiles were exchanged and Youngjae too sat beside him.

"You should take the rest of this day off, Junhong. And don't do  _anything_  with that hand. Understand?"

Junhong gave a smile almost as endearing as Yongguk's and nodded.

"Thank you, sir."

Youngjae reached up and patted Junhong's hair.

"Go on then. Tell Jongup that you're fine--he seemed worried about you."

 

And with that, Junhong ran out of the room, past the drops of blood on the marble stairs, towards the little cottage and into Jongup's tight embrace. Seokjin watched them from outside the infirmary's window as he cleansed his bloodied hands with a damp cloth and wiped away the sweat on his forehead. He smiled at the sweet sight in the distance.

"How nice; nobody's dead and everyone's happy." Seokjin sighed as he began packing up his equipment. He looked back at the woman lying asleep in the bed.

"She should wake up in perhaps a few hours."

    
Thanking Seokjin for his help and bidding him a safe trip back to Porles, they waved goodbye to him. They watched as the carriage's silhouette became nothing more than a speck of dust before returning inside the manor. It had been a hectic day but at least then, just as the wind picked up its pace, they could all rest.

 

 

That night was rather cold. A light drizzle fell onto dry ground and quenched the garden's constant thirst. Though the curtains were drawn shut, it was easy to guess that it would be another restless night for Levert forest. It makes one wonder; with the wind howling its melancholic song and the clouds weeping softly; was the world upset? And though at that moment, dark shadows reigned, it was disrupted by a golden glow that was almost brighter than the sun. The seemingly ethereal light came from none other than the grandiose chandeliers within Yoo manor.

The remarkable scent of food skillfully prepared by the hands of expert chefs was mouth-watering. Just like the notes that make up a song, every herb and spice used were complimentary to each other and were divine together. And just as the picturesque presentation was appealing to the eye, its taste was even greater.

First, baked chicken breast and mushrooms in béchamel sauce--with an assortment of sliced cheese on the side. Served on a thin wooden board and garnished with chives, its rustic elegance and creamy textures were a delightful way to start their dinner. Next, roasted potatoes and venison steak in cranberry sauce. With the thyme and pomegranate seeds scattered onto the dish, it was almost as if it was too festive. And finally, for dessert; a cloud-like dark chocolate soufflé with vanilla ice cream and crushed hazelnuts strewn on top.

Looking over at Daehyun, Youngjae noticed that he had barely eaten anything. He himself finished most of his dishes and thought that they were simply delicious. So why were there so many untouched dishes in front of Daehyun?

"Daehyun, what's the matter? Aren't you feeling well?" Youngjae asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

Daehyun shook his head as he reached for his teacup.

"I'm just...I don't feel hungry."

As he brought the teacup to his lips, the distant sound of running feet could be heard through the walls. And with a loud, thunderous noise, the dining hall doors were slammed open. Alarmed, the two turned towards the sound and saw Aya leaning against the door frame. 

"Sh-she's...she's awake!" She shouted between shallow breaths.

Abandoning their food, Youngjae and Daehyun followed Aya back to the infirmary. Making sure that the frail old woman didn't collapse, the two helped her up the stairs. Barging into the infirmary, the three ran in and found the young lady reaching for a scalpel that Seokjin had left behind on the bedside table.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, bitch? Put that down!” Aya yelped from behind Daehyun.

Startled, the woman pulled her arm back and stared at them in confusion.

“Where have you taken me?” She asked. Though she appeared weak and helpless, her voice was demanding, resisting defeat—an attribute one would expect from a member of The House Of Cards.

“You are in Yoo manor.” Youngjae answered.

“You were brought here when you passed out trying to kill me.”

She lowered her eyes and her hands followed.

“Oh. Is that so?”

Burying her hands beneath the blanket that covered her, she felt the bandaged wound on her torso.

_No._

Daehyun’s hand went to the glass jug beside him. As his fingers glided up the smooth surface, he tightly squeezed the handle.

_No. She’s hiding something._

How fortunate he was that he listened to his instinctive mistrust. For at that moment, the hands of time were moving slowly and every movement they made lasted for an eternity. The airborne scalpel that slipped from the woman’s slender fingers stood motionless and completely parallel to the ground. And once more, Youngjae was targeted by a sharpened blade—only this time, it was aimed right between his eyes.

_I need to protect Youngjae._

Same thoughts, same movements—Daehyun lifted up the jug and held it out in front of them. Upon impact, the jug shattered in his hand and the water it held cascaded down, dragging the scalpel along with it.

Disgruntled, the woman glared at the two before letting out a small chuckle.

“What a stupid move, don’t you think? Why would you bring an assassin to your home?” With that last sentence, her glare was locked onto Daehyun before returning to Youngjae.

“You know, I’m surprised you’re not dead yet. Who would have thought that Yoo Youngjae, the young duke of Porles, was actually an idiot?” She laughed.

Aya leaned forward to Youngjae.

“She ought to be taken to the cells. The bitch attacked you with a scalpel, for Christ’s sake! And who knows what else she’s capable of?”

Youngjae nodded at Aya and motioned for Daehyun to come closer.

“Do you remember where the cells are?”

Daehyun nodded.

“I’d like you to take her to one of the cells. I-if you don’t mind, that is.”

_Shit. I stuttered._

Following Youngjae’s command, Daehyun approached the woman and lifted her off the bed.

_Huh. This is the same way Youngjae carried me to his carriage._

“What are you doing? Put me down!”

_Well, except I never resisted._

Youngjae looked at Daehyun carrying the young woman. They almost,  _almost_  looked like a couple. Youngjae blushed. Hiding the twinges of jealousy that coursed through his veins, he smirked at the woman.

“The lady gets what the lady wants. Let her walk, Daehyun.”

Obeying Youngjae’s request, Daehyun set the woman’s feet down and allowed her to walk. Standing either side of her, the two held each of her wrists and disallowed her to neither fight nor flee. And though she resisted with impressive force, they managed to drag her down to the cells.

 

The cells were in the basement. They hadn’t been used in many years. After all, Jinsoo  _did_  always frown upon taking people as prisoners. It was cruel,  _inhumane_ , he would say. And he wasn’t wrong. The cells were a horrible place. It was dark—the entire basement was lit up by dim candlelight. The air was cold and smelled of dust. The concrete floor was icy and damp—any leaks form upper flows ended up in the basement. The place was home to rats and roaches—not people. Even Daehyun would much rather live out on the streets than in the cells.

The woman lay on the cold floor as Youngjae and Daehyun stood outside her cell.

“Tell us who you are.”  
  
The woman only sulked at them.

“What’s the point? You’re going to have me executed, are you not?"

Daehyun continued to ask her questions as Youngjae looked through a bag of her belongings. Makeup, hair accessories, a small pouch filled with coins--but what he was  _really_  looking for was at the bottom of the bag.

"You...You're the one the people call 'The Geisha'." Youngjae stated as he pulled out her two folded fans. Being close to the weapons, he could see all of the intricate designs. Branches of red cherry blossoms were painted onto the black silk and rhinestones were stuck onto the fabric. 

"Oh? You know about me?" She sneered.

"A promiscuous woman, you are. You seduce your victims at night and you kill them when they're at their most vulnerable. Really, I don't see why you would go to such measures. It seems like a very inconvenient way to eliminate your targets, is it not?"

"It  _is_  inconvenient." The Geisha smiled.

"But I have fun doing it."

Daehyun glowered at her.

"Who sent you to kill Youngjae?" He shouted, his voice echoing around the basement. 

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Someone desperately wanted the pocket watch that his father left him. I don't know what's so  _special_  about it but it's none of my business."

Youngjae reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketwatch. He ran his thumb along the rose design engraved into its golden surface and sighed. Sure, it was a gift from his beloved father but he no longer wanted it. That pocketwatch was nothing more than a sad reminder that his father was dead.  

Youngjae tossed the pocketwatch to the woman and she watched it fall before her perplexed eyes.

"Have it. In exchange for your name, Geisha." 

She paused momentarily before reaching down to pick it up.

"Juno."

Daehyun stared at the ground in shock. 

_Juno? I was friends with someone named Juno. I wonder...is this her?_

"Daehyun, it's getting late. You should go to bed."

Youngjae waited for the sound of the basement door closing before continuing. 

"Juno, was it? Tell me, how do I enter The House Of Cards?"

"I think your dear friend knows." She sneered at him.

"So it's true then? Daehyun is an assassin like you?" Youngjae sighed.

"It's best if you hear it from him. But yes, it's true."

Just as Youngjae turned to leave, Juno let out an unsettling chuckle.

"Oh dear, you fall in love so easily. I wonder...is it because he's your first love? Have your chaste lips ever tasted the sweetness of a kiss?"

 

Her emerald eyes were like those of a cat's--they stared at him through the darkness.

 

"What a shame. Do you think you can love a killer like him?"

 

"Of course. If anything, I trust him even more. If he wanted me dead, he would've done so by now." Youngjae continued towards the basement door. 

 

"A heart so pure; such a rare trait now, in this corrupt world of ours. What an angel you are."

 

Juno sat back against the wall and sighed.

 

"But I can only wonder...How did an angel like you fall in love with a sinner?"


	4. Room 52

With the previous day being so hectic and full of panic, everyone could only hope that the next one would be much more tranquil. Surely there would be a calm after yesterday's storm? _Just one day without death; is that too much to ask?_ It probably is—especially at The Killers' Rendezvous, for it won't be long before they notice that the Ace of Hearts is missing.

It was much quieter in the dining hall that morning. Perhaps they were just tired. Perhaps _one of them_ had just learned of an unwanted truth. And Youngjae didn't like it—the silence was unnecessary. He cleared his throat as he leaned forward on the table, taking care not to plant his elbows into his food.

"Juno told me that you know where The House Of Cards is located. Daehyun, is this true?"

Daehyun hesitated for a second before nodding at him. What was the point in lying? He wanted Youngjae to know that he could be trusted. Lying would only do more harm than anything. But since it had been many years since he entered The House Of Cards, he wasn't so sure if he could even remember the password. Would they be able to get in? Daehyun lifted more food up to his mouth. _I needn't worry. I'll probably remember it when I get there. If not, I'll find some other way to get in._

After breakfast, they boarded the carriage. Though all the blood had been cleaned off and the shattered window had been replaced, it was still shrouded in the awful memories yesterday held. Not only that, they were heading to Porles _again._ Only that time, Junhong wasn't with them. Youngjae insisted that he stay back and let his injured hand heal. But of course, Daehyun knew better. Youngjae didn't leave Junhong at the manor because of his hand. No, Youngjae left him at the manor because he didn't want Junhong to become associated with The House Of Cards. And though Junhong argued that it wasn't safe, he eventually agreed to stay behind—if Daehyun brought his sword with him.

_Please, Daehyun-hyung. At least take my sword with you. You can never be too safe_ _—especially in Porles._

Daehyun looked down at the sword in his hands, admiring the designs he had previously overlooked. The silver hilt took the shape of a two-headed snake with garnets for eyes. With the black snakeskin scabbard, the sword truly lived up to its name. As deadly as it was beautiful—what Daehyun held in his hands was the Medusa sword. It must have cost a fortune to buy that rare antique of a sword. He had to wonder, where did that old merchant get it from? Was it a family heirloom? Maybe he stole it?

Daehyun pulled apart the hilt and the scabbard, uncovering the blade. _It is said that Medusa herself was killed upon seeing her own reflection._ He thought as he stared at his face. Noticing that the bruises and scars were finally starting to fade, he smiled at himself.

_Thank you for saving me, Youngjae._

Upon hearing a light chuckle in front of him, his cheeks reddened and the air around him suddenly felt unusually warm.

"I'd say the same to you, Dae."

Youngjae's voice echoed in his mind.

_Dae. He called me 'Dae'._

Looking up, he found Youngjae smiling at him. It was the sweetest smile he'd ever seen. And that sweet smile—it was all for _him._ Oddly enough, Youngjae was blushing just as much as he was.

"D-did I say that out loud?" Daehyun stammered without trying to sound too flustered.

"I'm glad you did."

 

Once they arrived outside the marketplace, Daehyun attached the sword to his belt. Making sure to keep their faces hidden from the crowd's eyes, they walked past the busy marketplace. Being the duke of Porles, it would hurt his reputation if Youngjae was seen where they were going. And he didn't want to be a subject to the people's gossiping tongues.

In the more dilapidated area of Porles, far, _far_ from the city center was a certain building that many men were familiar with. _Luxuria._ Now, do not be fooled by its name. The place was just as decrepit as its neighboring buildings. As they opened the door, they were bombarded by unfamiliar scents and women's laughter. It was a sinful place to be and whatever stood behind the doors Luxuria had to offer could only be worse. Youngjae brushed his bangs over his eyes. No noble in their right mind would want to be caught inside a brothel.

He followed Daehyun to the front desk, where a middle-aged woman was twirling her fire-like red hair with her pointy finger. She raised an eyebrow at them as they approached the desk.

"How can I help you two fine gentlemen? Were you two looking for a ménage à trois?"

They both shook their head.

"No? Oh, I see. You want me to take just you two to a room?" She smirked at them.

"Yes. Please."

Youngjae looked at Daehyun with shock, confusion and—was he blushing again?

"Alright, boys." She announced, completely ignoring Youngjae's defiance.

"Do you have any specific room in mind? The ones with the thicker walls are quite popular." She twirled around a key ring on her finger.

"52."

"I beg your pardon?" The woman raised her eyebrows in confusion. _False_ confusion. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Take us to Room 52."

"I'm sorry, mister, are you drunk? Surely you don't believe that a building as small as this can have 52 rooms." There it was again—the false confusion that could fool any ordinary person. It could easily fool someone like _Youngjae_.

"Daehyun, she already said that there is no Room 52." Youngjae tried to pull him away from the desk but Daehyun simply shot him a look. _I know what I'm doing, Jae. Don't you worry._

"Queen of Hearts, surely you haven't forgotten about the _Joker,_ have you?"

 

The seemingly endless tunnels that stood beneath Luxuria's floors brought Daehyun a sense of nostalgia. Eventually, the tunnel reached its end and before them stood an old wooden door. Minerva, the owner of Luxuria and the 'gatekeeper' of The House Of Cards pulled out her key ring. There were four keyholes in the door, each were in the shape of one of the four suits. As the door opened, they were welcomed by an array of noises. The scent of alcohol and meat was overwhelming and many of the tables were crowded. To Youngjae, it seemed to be just like an ordinary tavern. And of course, that place was anything _but_ ordinary tavern. Though, there was something he didn't understand.

"There must be hundreds of people here. Aren't there only 52 members in The House Of Cards?"

"There are 53, now that the Joker has returned." Minerva corrected.

"And not everyone here is a card. We have supporting merchants providing our members with all sorts of supplies. Some of them are visitors from ally guilds. And the rest are our clients."

 _That's right. How could I forget?_ Youngjae thought.

The House Of Cards was one of many guilds. There were plenty of others that were just as powerful, though they were situated in other cities.

Youngjae looked around at his surroundings. The place was similar in size to the city center. On each of the four corners was a marble platform. And atop those platforms was a large statue—probably of one of the four original members.

"So why did you choose to come back, Daryn?" Minerva asked. Clearly, she wasn't aware of his true name.

Daehyun took her hand and placed a small object onto her palm. Puzzled, she looked down and saw that it was a small bloodstone ring. And as she realized what it meant, her whole face was overcast with shock.

"Your sister tried to kill someone _very_ important to me." What was just a mere whisper sounded almost like a threat.

"W-what do you want from me?" She whispered back. Pure fear—towards _him_. It was a sight Daehyun hadn't seen in a long time.

"I want everyone in this room to know that The Black Butterfly will not hesitate to kill _anyone_ who tries to harm Yoo Youngjae."

Silently nodding at him, Minerva turned towards the stage. She acknowledged his strength; his power—and she feared it. Even as a young boy, he never failed any of his tasks. They only took him in as the 53rd card out of pity. But in doing so, they created a _monster_ that remained untamable. To attempt to overcome The Black Butterfly's paramount skills would be a fatal mistake. He was truly deserving of his name.

"Daehyun...please don't hurt anyone." Youngjae whispered.

"I won't." Daehyun intertwined his fingers with Youngjae's.

"But I won't let you die, either."

Together, they watched as Minerva stepped onto the stage.  
_It's the Queen of Hearts! Everyone shut up!_ Someone shouted.  
Minerva mouthed 'thank you' to the shouter's direction. She cleared her throat as a hush fell throughout the room.

"Everyone, I have an announcement to make." She took a deep breath as she gathered the right words to say.  
"Our Joker card has returned. And he has asked me to tell all of you this."

The crowd began to chatter.

 _The Joker card? Who's that?_  
Isn't that Daryn?  
He was that little kid wasn't he?

_I thought he was dead._

"From this day forward, I forbid any attacks towards the duke of Porles. Unless you wish death be brought upon you by the hands of The Black Butterfly."

With the complete silence, Minerva stepped off the stage with her grim words echoing in everyone's mind. And before Minerva could reach them, Daehyun pulled on Youngjae's hand, leading him to the exit.

 

Through the snake-like tunnel they went, but instead of directing them back to Luxuria, they found themselves at the bottom of a ladder. The walls of stone bricks continued up to a faint light high above them and they realized just how far underground they were. Sparing no time, Daehyun began to climb the ladder, urging Youngjae to do so too. After all, Daehyun had used that same exit many times before and from what he could remember, it would be another hour of walking until they would arrive back at the marketplace. Perhaps he had much more energy as a child or his memories were simply warped by time passing but whichever one it was, he was getting tired—fast. With every rung he grasped, he could feel his body growing heavier, _heavier_ than what his limbs could support. _Oh dear_. He could only hope that Youngjae was still holding on to the ladder.

Upon reaching the top, Daehyun found that the upmost rung had been broken off. With the larger gap between the ladder and their exit, he was glad that it was he who climbed up first. Wedging his fingers into the fissures between bricks, he heaved himself up. _Oh, so this is a well,_ he noted. Though, instead of landing on his two feet, Daehyun lost his balance and fell flat onto the grass. His limbs ached. Not even once did he lift his head as he kept his eyes shut, panting for air— _until_ he heard someone shouting his name. Realizing that Youngjae was still on the ladder and probably just as tired as he was, Daehyun pushed himself onto his feet and reached his arm down into the well.

Youngjae took his hand and Daehyun lifted him up onto the line of bricks. Only that time, _both_ of them lost their balance and they fell to the ground in each other's arms.

The grass was soft. Youngjae never thought that he would find lying on the forest floor to be so comfortable. And it was warm, too. Unlike the cold wind that blew past the trees, that spot he was lying on seemed to be so much warmer—almost as if it was alive, with a beating heart.

_How can that be? The ground doesn't have a heart._

He let his eyes shift to the person beside him.

_But Daehyun does._

"Sleep for now, Jae. We still have a long way to go."

Youngjae nodded and sighed. Closing his eyes, he felt himself falling asleep as Daehyun's fingers combed through his hair.

" _Sleep well_."

 

Perhaps it was just a dream, but Youngjae swore that he heard a nightingale singing. _How rare that is for this area of the forest._

Youngjae woke up with a quiet yawn. He was _still_ in Daehyun's arms. Though, instead of lying still on the ground, they were moving. Daehyun had picked him up and carried him as he was asleep.  
"We're almost there."

Youngjae looked around him. Some of the trees were pierced with white arrows and he smiled. _Those are my arrows._  
"I know this place. Put me down, Dae. I know where there's water."

The moment his feet touched the ground, he held on to Daehyun's hand and ran. Past the tall trees they went and over a little hill. The sound of rushing water grew closer as they ran. And as more light seeped through the treetops, a small clearing was revealed—with a stream splitting it in half.

Youngjae took out his dry flask and submerged it into the water.

"Are you sure this water's safe?"

Youngjae handed the flask to Daehyun and smiled.  
"I've drank from this stream many times before and I'm perfectly fine."

 

The two continued to walk side-by-side until they finally found Yoongi waiting for them. He seemed relieved when they came back. By the time they boarded their carriage again, the sky was beginning to turn a bright shade of orange. And like always, the streets of Porles were still just as busy as before.

They slumped down on the seat, tired from their little hike. And instead of sitting on opposite sides, Youngjae sat beside Daehyun.  
"Why don't you sleep, Daehyun? You carried me through Levert forest, for Christ's sake."

"It's only fair, isn't it?" Daehyun chuckled. He lay his head down on Youngjae's lap and yawned.  
"Don't do anything foolish while I'm gone."

"I won't."

 

After a while, Daehyun had fallen asleep and Youngjae was left in complete silence. That was until the carriage stopped. They weren't at the manor yet, so why did they stop?

The carriage door was opened by Yoongi.  
"Sir, there's a—"

Youngjae held his index finger up to his lips.  
_Shh._

"There's a little girl standing on the path. She's refusing to move." He whispered.

Deciding to see for himself, Youngjae carefully lifted up Daehyun's head off of his lap and set him down on the seat. And as he stepped off the carriage, he could hear the child crying.

"Young girl, what's wrong?"

She wiped her tears away with her sleeve and looked up at Youngjae with her doe eyes.

"I can't find my mommy!" She cried.

Youngjae stooped down and tried to console the poor girl. She seemed so scared; so fragile. Did she get lost while walking through the woods? The sun had already set—the moon and stars populated the sky. And though it would be a difficult task to do at night, he wanted to return the girl to her mother. With an oil lamp Yoongi gave him, Youngjae followed the young girl into the forest. Though the light was dim, she avoided rocks and fallen logs with ease. Finally, she stopped sniffing and crying and the faint song of a nightingale could be heard. With every step they took, the song grew louder and oddly enough, it sounded almost identical to the one he heard in his dream. Were they following the birdsong?

"Do you remember where you last saw your mother?" Youngjae asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

"I don't have a mother." She answered; her voice just as lifeless as her eyes. The girl stopped walking and everything around them stopped moving too. Everything was still—even the nightingale's song stopped. And before Youngjae could even react to anything, someone grabbed him from behind and held a hunting knife against his throat.

"You're Yoo Youngjae?" An emotionless yet piercing voice asked.

"What's this? Minerva said there would be no more attacks from The House Of Cards."

The voice chuckled and he could feel the warm breath right against his ear.  
"Oh no, this isn't from The House Of Cards. This is personal."

"We will avenge Juno." The girl announced.

And as he felt the blade pressing against his skin and a drop of blood rolling down his neck, he heard a rustle in the bushes behind him.

"Janus, Vesta. Stop this nonsense." Ah, that voice. That sweet, _sweet_ voice. He could recognize it anywhere.

Startled, Vesta pulled three darts of red and black from her sleeve and held them between her fingers.  
"Who's there?" She stared at Daehyun's direction.

Daehyun stepped forward into the lamp's light and revealed himself.  
"Remember me?"

Vesta stared at Daehyun for a while before her eyes widened upon realizing who it was.

"Who is it, Vesta?" Janus asked. He still hadn't turned around to look and his knife was still pressed against Youngjae's throat.

"It's Daryn!" Vesta dropped her darts on the grass and ran to Daehyun, giving him a tight hug.

 _So, these are Daehyun's old friends.,_ Youngjae thought as he was finally released.

"Daryn, buddy, it's been years. Everyone thought you were dead." Janus said as though he didn't just try to kill _someone_.

"I _would_ be dead if it wasn't for Youngjae." Daehyun looked towards him and gasped as he noticed the shallow cut across his neck.

"Jae, you're bleeding!" He ran to him and started wiping away the blood with his handkerchief.

"You've changed a lot over the years, haven't you, Ryn?"

"And apparently, so did your name." Youngjae mumbled, earning a sarcastic laugh from Daehyun.

"Yeah? Well, I told you not to do anything foolish." He whispered to Youngjae.

 

"What were you saying earlier, Vesta? Right when Janus was about to slit my friend's throat—you said you were avenging _Juno?"_

Vesta nodded. "Your _friend_ killed her. She never came back after she left for Yoo manor."

"Well, that's not how I remember it. Juno got injured so Youngjae took her to Yoo manor to heal. She's still there— _alive_."

' _Oh_ ' was written on their faces.

 

By the time the carriage dropped them off at the manor, many of the servants had already gone to bed. Even Yongguk, who always seemed to be full of energy, welcomed them back with his eyes half-closed. Everyone was either tired or asleep—except for Youngjae and Daehyun. They both have had enough naps during that day. And although that was the case, they were both more than happy for the day to end. For when they were trudging through the forest, Daehyun was told that his mother eloped with Orcus, one of the strongest members of The House Of Cards—a brute amongst the silent killers. _And_ they learned that the couple moved to Karivia. _Karivia_ of all places. The fact that Dina abandoned Daehyun for a man just as dangerous—it hurt him. And seeing Daehyun that way—it hurt Youngjae too.

But just before they went to bed, they released Juno from her cell. A deal was a deal, after all. And they needn't worry about any more attacks from her; she already got what she came for. And they all knew very well that the only person who could _kill_ Youngjae was the one _protecting_ him.


	5. You have me

Their future is set in stone. Their journey through fate will not be smooth—hardships will face them, testing the strength of their trust. Though their future may be filled with obstacles, they will face them _together._ And together, they'll conquer them all. But for now, they'll rest.

It seemed as if Porles held nothing but misfortune for Daehyun and Youngjae. There _was_ the occasional silver lining but the difficulties still outweighed them. Besides, they had no reason to go to Porles anyway. Taking those into consideration, they decided that it would be best to stay at the manor. That day, they did the things they weren't able to do because of the recent incidents. And because they promised him, they decided that they would help Junhong with improving his swordsmanship. After all, if something bad happened to Daehyun, _he_ would have to take his place.

A sword is only as strong as the one who wields it. In Daehyun's case, he would be considered by many to be dangerously skilled with any blade he wielded. Junhong on the other hand had plenty of room for improvement. Youngjae had high hopes for Junhong—and high expectations. With someone like Daehyun training him, he had no doubts that Junhong would one day grow to be just as strong as The Black Butterfly.

_Poor is the pupil who does not surpass his master_

With the grass swaying in the wind and the sunlight gleaming across the fish pond's surface, the three stood atop a small hill in the garden of Yoo manor.

Junhong gripped his sword tighter as he held it out in front of him. And as Daehyun charged at him with his wooden sword—a _bokken_ ; Junhong swung at him. Just as the blade was nearing Daehyun, Junhong pulled back, afraid that he might accidentally hurt his hyung. "Don't hesitate! Don't worry about me, just attack!"

And attack, he did. He swung the sword at Daehyun without hesitation, just like he said and sure enough, it was deflected by the bokken.

"Good. You're learning quickly."

After many failed attempts against Daehyun, he leaned forward, trying to catch his breath. He was no joke—there was no way to exaggerate his skills.

Just then, Junhong felt someone place their hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw that it was Aya. She was holding her own bokken and her grey curls were tied back.

"Come, Daehyun. Let us teach this young man the ways of a true assassin."

Her words came as a shock to everyone _except_ Youngjae. She laughed at their reaction.  
"What? Where do you think I got these scars?" She pointed to her cheek.  
"They didn't call me the Ace of Spades for no reason!"  
She made a symbol with her hand that meant nothing to Junhong. The two cards nodded to each other. Daehyun must've understood. Was that gesture exclusive to The House Of Cards or was it known by assassins everywhere?

Like a pair of sharks, they circled Junhong, their stares piercing right through him. He stood still in his place. _Who do I look at? Where should I run? Who do I attack?_  
The two were still walking around him and they were gradually getting faster. It almost made him feel dizzy.

"Look at your blade, Junhong!" Aya yelled.  
"See your opponents. Be aware of your surroundings and fight accordingly."

Junhong drew in a deep breath and held his sword out across him once more.  
_See your opponents._  
He became aware of every step, every movement they made. The timing had to be perfect.  
Whenever Daehyun appeared on his sword, Aya was in front of him—  
right where he wanted her.

Running as fast as his feet could take him, he ran towards her. How long could he keep up that façade?  
_Be aware of your surroundings and fight accordingly._  
And that was exactly what he was doing. As he raised his arm to swing at Aya, he caught a glimpse of the view behind him on his sword. Sure enough, Daehyun was running up to him from behind—  
right where he wanted him

_All the gears are in place._

From a spectator's view, they would assume that this would end with defeat, just like his previous attempts. Junhong's sword was about to hit Aya's and she was already in position to block him. What a shame. At least he tried, _right?_

 _Fast_ was the one word Youngjae thought as he watched Junhong move. It was never his intention to hit Aya's sword, that sneaky little bastard. She wasn't his target after all. As he came to a stop, he turned his body so that _he_ was behind Daehyun. It was all a bluff—a clever one, at that.

With Junhong's arm loosely wrapped around Daehyun's neck, the world stood motionless—until Daehyun let out a hearty laugh. Junhong quickly released him, apologizing and bowing so low that his torso was parallel to the ground.

"That was amazing!" Daehyun gasped.

"My, my. Daehyun, what have you been teaching this child? Good work, both of you." Aya reached up and patted Junhong's hair.

"Jae, did you see that?" Daehyun beamed at Youngjae. "With both of us defending you, there's no way you'll ever get hurt!"

"Hey, I'm not completely hopeless, you know. I know how to defend myself." Youngjae huffed as he gave them a pout.

"Yeah?" Daehyun smirked. Ah, how much he enjoyed teasing his dear friend.

"Yeah. Aya, please retrieve _Art_ for me."

_Art? Is he going to paint people to death?_

_"_ Ooh, are you showing off your skills to Daehyun? This is going to be good."

And with that, Aya ran back to the manor. When she returned to them, she carried in her arms a bundle of royal violet cloth. Eager to see what was hidden underneath, Daehyun and Junhong leaned closer to Youngjae, watching him uncover whatever 'Art' was. The violet cloth cascaded down to the grass and in Youngjae's hands was a beautiful bow. The dark wood surface was polished well and had a mirror-like shine. The green accents painted onto it must have needed the precision of a surgeon to create. The green resembled the flora found in Levert forest—it was beautiful. Just like the person it belonged to.

"This," Youngjae held the bow comfortably in his hand.  
"This is the _Art_ emis bow. It was originally Aya's but she gave it to me many years ago. I've had plenty of practice," Youngjae said as he aimed an arrow at a tree beside the pond. And as his fingertips released the string, they all watched the arrow fly through the air.  
"As you can see." He smiled with pride as his arrow pierced through a branch, causing it to fall off.

Daehyun thought back to the time they spent in Levert forest. How Youngjae so willingly fell asleep in his arms—how he trusted him without any hesitation. He never expected Youngjae to be an experienced archer. He just seemed too sweet, too fragile, too pure of heart. Those arrows in the the trees were snow-white—identical to the one Youngjae just shot. Did they come from the same quiver; shot by the same hands? But they were so deep within the forest; could they really have been his?

"Were those _your_ arrows that we saw yesterday?"

Youngjae nodded. "You saw them?"

"Of course. They were everywhere. But why do you go so far from home to practise archery?"

"Because," Youngjae began. "It's the quietest area in Levert forest. It makes me feel relaxed." Though he was being completely honest, that wasn't the _only_ reason he went there to shoot arrows. But it wasn't the right moment to tell Daehyun—not yet. However, should they ever need to flee from everyone else, Youngjae will know exactly where to go.

 

Not too long after, rain began to fall and everyone retreated back to the manor. And as everyone else walked off to continue their day, Daehyun was pulled back by Youngjae.

"Follow me. There's something we must discuss."

Daehyun followed Youngjae through the hallways. He was still unfamiliar with the place and since all of the walls were identical, he was unable to determine where they were going. That was until he sighted a line of portraits when he realized they were heading to the library.

The library was a large room with two floors. It wasn't as grand as the rest of the manor—it stood outshined by its neighboring rooms. It was always cold in there too. And yet, Youngjae still favored that very room. What was it about the library that he liked so much? Was it the thin layer of dust that gathered on every surface? Was it because each wall was lined with books as far as the eyes could see? Perhaps it was because it was so homely and rustic. Or maybe he just happened to adore sitting next to a lamp and letting the world fade around him. But one thing was certain—he yearned for someone to read with; someone to enter new worlds with.

"Daehyun," Youngjae began as he sat down on the leather sofa. "I want to help you find your mother."

Daehyun stared at Youngjae with wide eyes. Those words were so unexpected; why was the world being so nice to him?  
"I'd like that. But what about _your_ mother? What if she comes home and you aren't here?"

"Nora won't be back home for another week. Besides, Karivia isn't too far. I want to help you."

 _Nora. That must be his mother._ He assumed when suddenly, another unnerving thought came barging in unwelcomed.

_Will she remember me?_

Youngjae smiled to himself.  
"Yongguk's going to be happy."

"You mean happier than he already is? I didn't think it was possible." Daehyun chuckled, brushing away his worries.

"He's always so much happier when Himchan's around." To tell the truth, Youngjae envied them. They always seemed to be smiling or laughing when they were together. He wondered how it felt.

"Himchan? Who's that?"

"Himchan's our first footman." He replied. "He always accompanies mother whenever she leaves the manor."

 _Himchan, huh?_ Daehyun wondered what he was like. Was he nice, just like everyone else? Did he have a friendly smile like Yongguk's? He watched as Youngjae stood up and walked to the window.

Staring out of it, he sighed.

"It gets lonely here, Dae." He dragged his finger across the windowsill, drawing a line in the dust.

"And after a while, you get tired of seeing the same things over and over again. That's why I go to such distances with nothing but my bow and arrows."

Youngjae turned back and returned to the sofa.  
"You know, I always feel so alone in here. It's always the same everyday. Yongguk will be with Himchan and Junhong's already becoming best friends with Jongup. And I, I only have—"

"Me." Daehyun interrupted. Placing his hand on Youngjae's cheek, he looked into his glassy eyes.

"You have _me._ "

Leaning in closer, Daehyun let his eyes close as he pressed his lips against Youngjae's— _gently._ They were softer than the petals of a budding rose and were almost too delicate to kiss. Did that rose have any hidden thorns? Who knows?

Daehyun opened his eyes and pulled away as he felt warm tears falling onto his hand. With his thumb, he wiped away Youngjae's tears.

 _"_ That's right...I have _you_." Youngjae whispered back as they longingly stared at each other's eyes. And at that moment, the library didn't seem so cold anymore. Youngjae cupped Daehyun's cheeks and pulled him closer for another kiss. It was sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted, warmer than anything he'd ever felt.

Pulling away to breathe, Youngjae pressed his forehead against Daehyun's and smiled.  
"You're beautiful, Dae. Did you know that? Why did you fall for someone like _me_?"

Daehyun smiled back.  
"Because I saw and angel and I refused to let him go."

 

They watched time pass by in the library, never leaving each other's side until sunset. Daehyun understood why Youngjae favored the library. Each book held inside it new adventures, new worlds—it was his way of escaping reality. But with Daehyun by his side, was there any reason for Youngjae to want to escape reality? Perhaps. Life as they knew it was changing right before their eyes and without realizing it, they _too_ will have to change—for better or worse.

 

At nightfall, the two finally parted and exchanged good-nights. And as Daehyun lay in his bed that night, he struggled to fall asleep. His mind was troubled—what was he feeling? Was it anxiety? Without a doubt, he wanted to see his beloved mother again. But the possibility of rejection—it scared him. Would she welcome him back into her life with open arms? Would she look at him with disdain and tell him that he was a monster?

Daehyun let his tears fall onto his pillow. The dam that held back his tears for so long had finally broken—and he felt relieved. He felt _human._

Youngjae proved to him that someone _can_ love a _monster_ , a _rat_ , a _killer_. He was truly grateful of the angel that gave him a chance—the angel that fixed his once broken heart.


	6. Doppelgänger

_I can't see anything. I can't feel anything. Where am I? Why isn't my tongue speaking, my heart beating? Am I within the confines of death?_ A blinding white light tore through the darkness and brought with it the silhouette of an angel's wings. Like snow, they fell—the pure white feathers. And as they touched the ground, they were stained a deep shade of red. _Corrupt, corrupt_ — _this angel's tongue. Lies, lies_ — _fill me with your lies and watch me fall._

_And we'll fall together. For we are like the fallen angel's wings and I'll follow you to the depths of Hell if I must._

The sun had barely risen when Daehyun was awakened by Youngjae. It was a sweet sight; a delightful change—waking up and for once, finding someone he loved right next to him. Like ice, the morning air seeped into his skin and he shivered as Youngjae placed his fingers on his shoulder. How cold was it that morning, that even Youngjae's touch didn't bring him any warmth?

"It's time to wake up, Dae." He whispered, letting his warm breath brush gently against Daehyun's neck. Sure, it was a cold morning and it was still very early but they both knew that the earlier they left, the earlier they'd return. Youngjae wrapped his arms around Daehyun and pulled him towards the edge of the bed so that he sat upright. And taking no notice of what he grabbed, Youngjae took a pile of clothing from the wardrobe and threw them onto the bed beside Daehyun.

"Come on, get changed." Youngjae urged as he began to undress Daehyun.

Suddenly feeling completely awake and _very_ flustered, Daehyun's cheeks flushed red. His muscles tensed and his heart began to beat faster, though he didn't feel the need to shy away from Youngjae. So instead, he sat like a doll and allowed Youngjae to slip off the robe he wore. The fabric fell to a bundle around Daehyun's hips, reminding Youngjae that he was past the point of no return.

Acknowledging what he'd just done, Youngjae felt himself blush as he stared at Daehyun in awe. No longer did his bones protrude out from beneath his skin; his muscles were much more prominent than before. But before Youngjae could admire Daehyun any further, he took a white shirt from the pile and covered up his bare chest. As he buttoned up the shirt, Youngjae smiled and leaned down to kiss Daehyun on the forehead.

" _Now_ you're awake, aren't you? Finish getting changed—we're leaving straight after breakfast." And with that, Youngjae stepped out of the room, leaving Daehyun alone and half-dressed. 

With their bellies filled, the two greeted a very sleepy Yoongi and climbed into the carriage. And since it was still cold, they sat beside each other. They nestled close to one another and shared a small blanket between them, staving off the bitter cold. It was an unusual sight—looking over to the seat in front of him and seeing nobody there. Daehyun smiled as he wrapped his arms around Youngjae, pulling him closer. His mind drifted back to the sweet words they exchanged yesterday.

_You're beautiful, Dae. Did you know that? How did you fall for someone like me?_

_Because I saw an angel and I refused to let him go._

Daehyun held back a sigh.  _What about you, Youngjae? How did an angel like you fall for someone like me?_

The familiar buildings of Porles faded away into the distance and diminished into nothing more than a speck of dust. And as the line of trees followed them along the dry dirt road, Daehyun could feel bouts of bitter nostalgia eating away at him. 

It was the road to Karivia—the very road that lead Daehyun to a life of bloodshed, misery and eventually, _love._ The journey from Karivia to Porles was long and painful—with a barren wasteland on the left and a lush forest teeming with predators on the right, which one was he meant to choose? The memory in Daehyun's head was vague and on the verge of being forgotten. Perhaps it was better that way. Perhaps it would be better if he pretended that it never happened.

The road was just as lifeless as what he could remember. Only at that time, he was _leaving_ Karivia. It was as if life was playing a cruel joke on him, mocking him, leading him back to where it all started. But of course, that was to be expected. After all, _the past never forgets._

 

Misshapen buildings and streets ridden with filth interrupted the emptiness of the dry dirt road. And as the carriage continued to drive past decaying houses—homes of the wealthy long, long ago; the tree line followed suit. Levert forest continued to stretch along, flashes of green appearing within the narrow spaces between huddled houses. And there it stood; a lone cottage distant from the others. With its wasteland of a front yard plagued by blight; it was abundant with overgrown weeds and waste from careless neighbors—it was what Daehyun once called 'home'. And even after all of the years, it still stood tall, beckoning them from outside the window.

The cloudless sky was painted a dull shade of grey. And as they stepped out of the carriage, the breeze brought along with it a thin veil of dust and fallen leaves from withered branches. Approaching the near-forgotten house, Daehyun could feel his heart growing heavier and tears beginning to well up in his eyes with every step he took. It was painful. Seeing his childhood home in such an unruly state; it was a sight he wasn't prepared to see. All of his memories—good and bad; were lived and relived in that very house.

It was almost insulting.

Their absence must've been obvious. Being without any occupants for over a decade, all of the vandalism was to be expected. Rubbish was strewn around the place. The fragile windows were shattered and cobwebs had already formed between the spaces.

Youngjae took Daehyun's hand and followed him around the mounds of rubbish. By the looks of things, Daehyun's mother likely didn't return to that house. How long had it been since that place supported any life?

Daehyun placed his hand on the rusted doorknob and gently pushed. It was unlocked. With a loud creak, the door opened with ease.

The place was nothing like he remembered. It looked so different without all of the inexpensive furniture it once held. Where was his father's old rocking chair? His mother's barren bookshelf? They'd been replaced by stones and shards of glass. The color in the walls had faded and instead, they'd taken on the same shade of grey as the sky outside.

As Daehyun turned to face Youngjae's bewildered expression, he noticed a young man approaching the house.

"Hello? Who's in there?" The young man asked as he walked towards the door. And when he peeked inside, he raised an eyebrow at them.

"Eh? What are two noblemen like you doing in here? You must be lost."

Youngjae's stare quickly shifted back and forth between Daehyun and the young man, noticing their striking resemblance to each other. He looked at them in awe and grinned, clearly amused by the sight.

"Looks like we've found you a doppelgänger, Dae."

After their short introductions, they learned of another peculiar fact. It must've been nothing more than a coincidence but there was no denying that the similarity was uncanny.

The young man with a similar face, similar name as Daehyun—did they meet Kim Taehyung by pure chance?

Youngjae and Daehyun followed Taehyung to his small cottage. After he found out that the two had nowhere to stay, he offered to bring them to his home.

It wasn't much but it was better than nothing. The whole cottage was one single room, furnished with few, very simple items. A table, four chairs and a small bed—all crafted from inexpensive wood. And on the center of a wall was a small fireplace.

"So what brings you two to Karivia?" Taehyung asked as he pulled out a chair for each of them.

"I...I'm looking for my mother."

"Your mother?" Taehyung asked with an amused tone.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen her. You see, there's just _so many_ rich folk here. She must've blended right in with—"

"You think this is a joke?" Youngjae yelled, slamming his palm against the table.

"He hasn't seen his family in over ten years. And when I saw him lying out in the streets of Porles, he was half-dead. But of course, _who cares_ about what he's been through. This is all a joke to you, isn't it?" Youngjae stared at Taehyung, his eyes reflecting the same pain Daehyun had endured for so long.

Taehyung was speechless. He didn't mean to sound offensive. And yet that Youngjae still yelled at him in his own home? _The nerve of some people. Who does he think he is?_

He would've apologized for his inconsideration but instead, he remained tongue-tied.

"Youngjae, please. This isn't like you." Daehyun placed his hand on Youngjae's shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry." Youngjae looked down, ashamed of his appalling behavior.

"I just...I heard you crying last night so I thought that maybe if you saw Dina again—"

"Dina? _Jung_ Dina?"

Daehyun nodded. "Yeah, that's my mother. Do you know her?"

Taehyung sighed. "I do, but—look I'll just take you to her tomorrow. She's not going anywhere."

He picked up his haversack and stood up.

"I need to get some food and firewood. You can come with me if you want. Or you can stay here."

"I'll be back in three hours." Taehyung yelled as he shut the door behind him.

Now, what could they have possibly done for three hours? Sure, they could've stayed inside that little cottage, but Daehyun said that there was something he wanted to see. So instead, they decided to walk back to his old house.

Remembering the directions wasn't too difficult. The two homes weren't too far from each other. Daehyun could remember some of the houses they passed by as they walked. He could've sworn that the neighborhood looked much friendlier back then.

Soon enough, they reached the place. Though instead of entering the front door, Daehyun led Youngjae to the back of the house. The small backyard was no better than the front. Jagged rocks and small fallen birds rotting away in the untamed grass; moss climbing up crumbling walls and insects crawling about, declaring the place as their's—nature was already taking back what was originally her's.

Daehyun approached a dead tree's stump and picked up one of the flat stones at his feet. With the stone in hand, he began to dig into the soil. Upon seeing a small metal box, a bright smile tugged at his lips as he retrieved it from the earth.

_There it is again. That smile. The death of me._

Youngjae began to wonder what it was inside that box that made Daehyun smile so much. Was it a Cherub's arrow? The Fountain of Youth? God Himself?

"This was a gift that I intended to give to my father. I looked forward to the moment when he'd return home and open this little box." With lips threatening to fall into a frown at any instant, Daehyun walked towards Youngjae and gave him a sad smile.

"That moment never came." His eyes glanced up and refused to go down, for fear that he may collapse onto his knees, wallowing in his sorrow. He drew in a deep breath and tried to speak as he normally would but to no avail.

"But now, _you're_ here. And there's nobody else that means more to me than you. I want _you_ to have this." Daehyun felt his voice breaking and his tears had managed to escape from his eyes. And just as the box left his fingertips, he turned his back to Youngjae, wiping away the tears with his sleeve.

Instead of opening the box, Youngjae went up to him and hugged him from behind. He nuzzled Daehyun's neck and his arms squeezed tightly around him.

"Stop it, Dae. You'll make _me_ cry." He mumbled, his voice muffled by Daehyun's shoulder.

"Sorry." He sniffled and reached his hand up, running his fingers through Youngjae's hair.

"Go on. I want to see you open it."

Youngjae held the box close to his chest and with a pounding heart, he carefully lifted up the lid.

Even in the weak sunlight, it glimmered like a thousand jewels. Plentiful in the box and almost spilling at the sides, the delicate white remained untouched by the dirt. And placed atop that fine white sand was a shell of coral and ivory, shaped into a little heart. Its glossy surface gave off a gentle glow.

"It's beautiful."

Youngjae hesitated to pick it up, afraid that the shell might shatter against his touch. But he did pick it up, eventually. He held it out in the air, marveling at the simple yet unfathomable beauty of Daehyun's little gift. And like clockwork, the two said the exact same words.

"It's almost as beautiful as _you_." The two grinned and laughed at each other.

Just as Youngjae was about to place the shell back into the safety of its box, he was stopped by Daehyun.

"I don't expect you to carry that box around all day." He smiled and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. He laid down the handkerchief flat on his hands and Youngjae placed the shell in the center. Daehyun tied the cloth into a small pouch and handed it to Youngjae.

Daehyun led Youngjae back inside the house. There was something else he wanted to see. They entered a room just as bare and plain as the rest. Well, except for one thing.

Daehyun knelt down and faced the wall.

_Yes. It's still here._

He placed his hand on the wall and ran his fingers across the wavering lines etched into it.

That room was where he and his family used to sleep. And right beside their bed, he had carved out a drawing of his family. Him, his father and his mother were all depicted on that wall. But he knew that it had been tampered with. It was too obvious. Two other people were carved right beside his mother, almost mirroring the original image. A tall man and a young boy—perhaps the same child that crossed out Daehyun and his father with charcoal. Was that Dina's new family?

Daehyun looked at the names below the figures. Dina, beside her was Orcus—the man she eloped with and their son—

_Their son._

Daehyun ran out of the house, not caring about how violently he swung open the door. He sprinted towards the treeline and into the depths of Levert forest. He didn't dare look back.

"Daehyun, stop! Where are you going?" Youngjae yelled as he chased after Daehyun. But Daehyun kept running. Away from his past and inadvertently, away from his angel too. It wasn't until a stream interrupted him when he finally slowed down. But he didn't stop, no. Instead, he ran through the water. So his feet were wet. So what? He'd just found out that his mother had replaced him with another child. What harm was a little water going to do to Daehyun, who was already falling apart and bleeding through his tears?

After a while, his sight began to blur in exhaustion. His limbs had become numb but were still taking him to God-knows-where. His mouth was dry and his tongue couldn't utter a single word, let alone cry for help. But the one thing that mattered was that his heart was still beating in his chest. He wasn't dead—not yet.

As if a wall had suddenly risen from the ground in front of him, Daehyun stopped abruptly in the center of a shaded clearing. He collapsed onto his knees and began to sob. He was hopeless. He knew it. He was a rat that didn't deserve to live—a murderer that didn't deserve a family. He let out a scream with all of the air his lungs could hold.

Echo.

He let his pained voice echo through the woods.

_Let them hear me. Let them tell stories of how the infamous Black Butterfly was driven to madness. Let the world forget that I even existed._

He fell to the ground and landed atop a layer of fallen leaves. Darkness began to grow around him and brought with it the blurred image of a person. Like snow, they fell—the wilted leaves. And as they touched the ground, the person came closer.

_Speechless, speechless—this sinner's tongue. Save me—fill me with your and watch me rise._

_And we'll rise together. For we are like the wings of a soaring angel and not even 'til death will we part._


End file.
